The Storybook
by Gabriel Gatsby
Summary: "In a blank world, where nothing has been decided yet, a blank boy sits and waits for something to happen. He doesn't remember who he is, where he came from, or why he's here. All he knows is he didn't know better; he opened the book, and now he must wait for his story to begin." - Something wakes Colin, and he's compelled to find out what.


_In a blank world, where nothing has been decided yet, a blank boy sits and waits for something to happen. He doesn't remember who he is, where he came from, or why he's here. All he knows is he didn't know better; he opened the book, and now he must wait for his story to begin._

* * *

Colin sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes sleepily. As his mind slowly surfaced into the realm of consciousness, he became vaguely aware that it was not yet morning. Only pale beams of moonlight filtered in through the cracks in the curtains, and around him the rest of his house still slumbered on peacefully. And yet… he had been so sure it was real. He had thought he'd heard… something. Like a sound just barely within hearing; muffled and inarticulate, but somehow familiar.

For a moment he sat in the darkness, straining his ears for he didn't quite know what, but as he listened he became more awake and the silence that greeted him only made him more certain that _something _had woken him. Fumbling for his glasses, he pushed them up his nose and slipped out from between the bed covers. It was chilly, but he left his dressing gown on its hook, instead reaching for his wand before making his careful way across the dorm to the head of the stairs that lead down to the common room.

If he could just get a little closer, he thought, he was sure he would be able to hear it again. Reaching the staircase, he descended the first few steps. A floorboard creaked underfoot, and behind him someone mumbled,

"Col'?" but he didn't turn back. Something drew him forwards; curiosity, perhaps. Or concern? It could have been someone calling out for help. Now that he thought of it, he was sure he could recall a note of urgency in the sound.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he gently pressed upon the door to the common room, and tensed as the old hinges whined into the darkness. Poking his head through the gap, he peered out into the eerily still common room. Normally a jovial array of reds and yellows, the abandoned space looked almost ghostly bathed the in the grey light of the moon. Here and there shadows stretched away from the windows, and usually snug sofas and armchairs looked stony in the darkness.

For the first time, Colin glanced back over his shoulder. He had classes in the morning to be up for, and his thin frame called for the warmth and comfort of his bed, but his mind was too alert for sleeping – and that was when he heard it again. Barely a whisper, but his pulse quickened at the affirmation of what he'd heard; he hadn't dreamt it. And, like an overheard conversation you know you shouldn't be listening to but can't quite bring yourself to walk away from either, it beckoned him.

With one last look up the stairs Colin pushed the door open further -just wide enough so that he could slip through the gap- and crept out across the pool of moonlight spilling in through the window. He headed straight for the portrait hole, tip-toeing across the thread-bare rug, and stopping only when he was safely to the other side.

With a skip of his heart his breath caught in his throat. It was unheard of - but the portal was open. Just a tiny crack, so much so that if you simply walked past you would likely not even notice, but it was open nonetheless. Warning bells went off somewhere in the back of his mind, but curling his fingers around the edge of the frame Colin listened for a different sound; for his sound.

Yes – it was there, muffled by the portrait and distance, but he was sure he could hear it. Now, if he could just get a little closer, he might be able to make out words. Ignoring the smaller voice that urged caution, Colin took a deep breath before slipping out into the hallway.

Out in the hall, Colin was plunged into inky blackness. There were no windows in this part of the castle, and as he edged his way forward he was forced to sense his surroundings through touch and from memory rather than sight. The rough carpet was itchy on the soles of his feet, and the cool air made him shiver. He pulled the sleeves of his pyjamas down to warm his hands, but kept shuffling forward into the dark.

Some way down the hall, he judged that he must be far enough from the Fat Lady that he wouldn't wake her with the light of his wand, and whispered a low _lumos _into the darkness.

As his immediate surroundings suddenly lit up with the harsh artificial light, something loomed directly before him. His heart lurched in his chest and he jumped back in fright, but after the initial cold wash of fear he took a steadying breath and tried to still his trembling hands. It was just a gargoyle statue – he'd almost walked straight into it in the dark.

Glancing sideways at the grotesque eyes that popped out at him, and the long serpentine tongue, he made his way around the fearsome stone pillar and continued on down the hall. In that moment, he'd forgotten about the sound, and now as he walked on he felt suddenly very aware of his surroundings. It was cold in the open space, and beyond his little sphere of light everything was black. It was well past curfew, and as he strained once again for the sound he heard nothing. Without it to guide him, he trembled as he inched forwards on uncertain feet. What if he bumped into a prefect? Or worse, a teacher? What was he thinking, coming out after curfew?

Another bolt of fear gave his frazzled nerves no respite, as something from the darkness brushed against his ankle. With a violent jump, he dropped his wand, and had just enough time to catch a glimpse of Mrs Norris at his feet before the spell faded and he was submerged once again in complete darkness.

Panic gripped him. It was just Mrs Norris – but if it was Mrs Norris, then the caretaker was bound to be-

"Mrs Norris?" Rasped a horribly familiar voice from somewhere in the blackness, and Colin's blood ran cold. He shouldn't be out of bed. Why was he wandering the corridors at night? He dropped to his knees and scrabbled around blindly on the floor for his wand but it was too dark – he couldn't see anything. His hand brushed against Mrs Norris and he cringed back.

Mrs Norris yowled next to him, and with a jerk Colin looked up. A warm light was steadily approaching from around the next bend. Just visible now, but- Mrs Norris mewed again, and the scratchy voice replied, closer this time,

"What is it, my dear? What have you found?"

Eyes wide, Colin didn't wait for the light to reach him. Abandoning his wand, he jumped to his feet and ran.

His footsteps seemed to slap loudly in the otherwise silent corridor, and he heard Filch shout something behind him, but he didn't stop to listen. Blood roared in his ears as he pelted back down the way he'd come. He rounded a corner, leaving Filch's orange candlelight behind him. A flight of stairs opened out before him and he didn't stop to wonder where they lead as he put as much distance between himself and discovery as possible. Round and round he went, down spiralling flights of stairs and along windowless corridors. He didn't stop running until his lungs burned and his panic-stricken heart thudded a rapid beat against his ribcage.

He didn't stop until he saw a pale blue light emanating from somewhere before him. Panting hard, he slowed to a steady jog, then to a walk as his tired legs burned and his raw throat scratched hotly with each breath. Something in the back of his mind whispered that it could be someone else, but as he gazed at it -the only thing visible in the darkness- it soothed his fears. It glowed before him invitingly, and while voices of caution whispered warnings in the back of Colin's mind, he continued to place one foot after the other, drawn forwards on an invisible string.

It was so beautiful, and clear. Some part of his mind registered that it had been this that had lead him through the darkness when he should have been completely blind. That had led him here, but above the words of warning a louder voice spoke and it filled his mind; it was _the sound._

The sound and the light were all that mattered. Colin stepped up to where the light was brightest, and as he did it seemed to expand to envelope him in its embrace. Reaching towards it, he picked up the source and held it open in both his hands.

It was a book. The smooth leather of the case felt cool against his palms, and although bright, the light that it emitted didn't blind him. The weight of it felt right, and the voice seemed to hum approvingly at his touch.

With wide eyes, he stared at the blank pages in his hands, and felt everything else fade away. Nothing else mattered, but this. The book. The voice. The light. He forgot about Filch, and classes, and his warm bed. He forgot about his homework assignments, his upcoming birthday, and his Harry Potter photo collection. Then he forgot about Hogwarts, where he grew up, his friends… his family… his name…

The voice filled the void, and when it spoke his whole world vibrated with it. It boomed from every corner, and at the very top of the first page, neat curling script slowly unwound with it.

It simply read, '_Once upon a time…'_

As the final letter scratched itself onto the page, there was a sudden rushing and a sickening lurch as light exploded from the book. It expanded to fill the furthest edges of the room; to cast out every shadow, until nothing could be seen but bright clear white. It lasted a mere second but seemed to stretch on for an eternity, then, with a loud crack, the book slammed shut. The light vanished, and with a thud the heavy tome fell to the carpet.

The light was gone, the sound was gone… and Colin was gone.

* * *

Madam Pince pursed her lips in anger as she caught sight of one of her precious books lying neglected on the floor of the library. Her heels clicked as she quickly stepped forward to retrieve it, then turning the volume over in her hands she examined the spine.

She took in the title of the book with a frown of consternation. This was not good. This was not a book that belonged in the Hogwarts' library, and she didn't like that it was here. As she weighed it in her hands she thought of the many dark books that were sealed away in the Restricted Section; ones that threatened pain and misery for those that beheld them, others that would level the school given the chance... it didn't bode well that she liked the feel of this one less.

Knowing better than to open a mysterious book of which she did not know the origin, she tucked it under her arm and determined to visit the headmaster as soon as her job would allow. Many had made the mistake of underestimating the power of books – but not she. No, this _Storybook, _as it was titled, could wait a few hours, then Albus could deal with it.

* * *

_In a blank world, where nothing has been decided yet, a blank boy sits and waits for something to happen... he underestimated the power of a book, and now soon he will know the power of the storyteller._

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_Written for the 'Game of Life' Challenge. Promts: storybook, darkness, gargoyle._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

_CC cover image (entitled 'Ancient Book') courtesy of Richard Scott on Flickr._

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**A/N: **Was it boring!? I think maybe it was a little too plotless, too much wandering about in the dark with not much happening. Let me know what you thought! Thanks so much for reading :) GG x


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